Mt. Nemo, US 50, home, reflection

The Mount Nemo Scenic Byway is one of those roads that motorcyclists collect. When I passed the sign for the turnoff yesterday before riding into Nephi, I thought that if I was ever going to ride the Mt. Nemo road, then today would be a good time to do it, so I set the alarm for 6 AM. It was still dark at that time, and only 58 degrees when I began loading the bike, but the sun had come up and it looked like it would be another clear and pleasant day. I rode about six miles east from Nephi and turned north up the scenic byway. The online description of the ride mentions opportunities to see wildlife, and I was worried about deer and elk, especially so early in the morning. In fact I saw only one rather confused looking young deer nibbling grass at the side of the road. However, there were many cows wandering across the road, down the road, and alongside  the road.

Share the road

The 30 mph speed limit seemed silly at first, but after a few miles it began to make sense. The road is narrow, the surface is chip-sealed with an emphasis on the chip, the turns are tight and unpredictable, the climb is steep, and there is gravel in some places from turnouts and side roads. It is best to relax, keep the speed down, and enjoy the views, which are outstanding.

View  from the Mt. Nemo road

Another view from the road, this time with Victor

 The road climbs over a 9345 foot summit before descending into Payson and by that time I was ready for a break and for breakfast. Unfortunately, I failed to find a restaurant that was open - just a few chain places by I-15, which I rode south to Nephi, where again I failed to find a local restaurant. I finally went another 70 miles on SR 132 to Delta, where I had French Toast at the Ranch Motel Cafe, where I've eaten before.

An art installation in Leamington, about 20 miles from Delta on SR 132

On I-15 and SR 132 I'd noticed a strong wind out of  the southwest, and as I began my long day on US 50  the wind became a crosswind that blew fine dust from the surrounding desert so that the surrounding hills and the road ahead appeared indistinct and ghostly.

There's not much to say about US 50 from Delta to I-80 in Fernley, Nevada: I gassed up in Ely, had lunch at the Owl Club Cafe in Eureka, got gas again in Austin, and again in Fallon. There are several passes along the way in Utah and in Nevada, and some nice curves leading up to those passes. I've been on that stretch of US 50 many times. The speed limits are reasonable, the traffic is light, the scenery isn't quite monotonous - perhaps soothing would be a better term. The temperature stayed at a pleasant 70-75 degrees, warming to 80 at the lower elevation of Fallon.

It was only 5 PM when I arrived in Fallon and I decided to push on for home rather than spend the night there. I joined I-80 in Fernley, rode through Reno, up to Donner Summit, and then  down into the Sacramento valley. There were (maybe still are) forest fires near US 50 and I-80 and the air was very hazy and smelled of smoke. I stopped at Ikeda's in Auburn for a chicken pot pie, which I ate, and a slice of strawberry/rhubarb pie, which I stowed in my tank bag. The heavy California traffic that I know and hate began in Roseville and continue to San Francisco, although at least it was moving at the limit. After so long on back roads in rural areas I'd grown  used to having the road to myself. I arrived home 16 hours later than when I started the day, covering 850 miles.

Reflections: I was on the road for a month and covered 8600 miles. The weather when I was riding could have been a lot worse - I always seemed to be either behind a rain front or ahead of one, a couple of times in the Midwest missing afternoon thunderstorms by a half hour or so. A few days were oppressively hot, but most of the time the temperature was between 70 and 85 degrees.

Having Carol ride with me on the first half of the trip worked out very well - she says that she's up for another long ride. However, it may be on a different bike - Victor has over 142,000 miles, and although he's running fine, I'd probably worry every day on another long ride.

The unexpected theme of the second half of the trip was the inexcusable treatment of the Native Americans who were here and had a vibrant culture long before the Europeans arrived. We visited Traverse des Sioux in St. Peters, Minnesota where a treaty with the Indians was signed by the US Government in 1851. The terms of that treaty were violated repeatedly by the US, which led to the Indian uprising in 1862 and then to the mass hanging in nearby Mankato, Minnesota. Fourteen years later gold was discovered in the Black Hills of South Dakota, and miners and settlers rushed into Indian lands in violation of an existing treaty. This led to an order being issued to confine Indians to reservations, which the US Cavalry attempted to enforce. We visited the battlefield at Little Big Horn, where Custer met his demise, and the memorial to Crazy Horse, who was killed while "resisting arrest" in 1877. I rode on the Chief Joseph byway in Wyoming, a stretch of road that commemorates the leader of a band of Nez Perce Indians who resisted the US Army's attempts to move them from their ancestral lands. I also visited the memorial at Wounded Knee on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation where troops of the 7th Cavalry (Custer's old command) massacred over 200 Indians in 1890, the culmination of the Ghost Dancer movement that was the Indians' last gasp at retaining their traditional way of life.

Every long ride creates its own story, and a turn in the road can lead to an unexpected twist in the narrative. There was some great riding and beautiful scenery on the second half of my trip, but my enthusiasm for being on the road was tempered by the knowledge of the sad history of the land through which I was riding.